


Cutting Edges

by GodOfWar



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Blood, Demon Aziraphale (Good Omens), Everybody Lives, Fallen!Aziraphale, Gen, Gore, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Seriously people, So don't worry, The Fall - Freeform, and, but this is sad, falling, it's how I live those days, just writing continuations to other people nicer stories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 20:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21087176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodOfWar/pseuds/GodOfWar
Summary: A tiny bit of comfort after lot of hurt.A continuation of thisthinginabox fic, prompted by good-omens-prompts. Link inside.





	Cutting Edges

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Demon Aziraphale](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/527975) by thisthinginabox. 

"Don’t touch me.”

“Azirap..” Crowley swayed closer, but jumped away when Aziraphale’s face was suddenly right there, full of teeth and furious.

“No! Don’t call me that. Not that, not…” The fury left, leaving him despondent and fighting off the urge to cry. To wail and beg and plead and swat away any dignity in exchange for his wings becoming white again. Anything. Anything to go back. “Leave me. Do you hear me? Go away. I don’t deserve…”

“Don’t deserve what,” Crowley spat the words like a curse. “You don’t deserve what!?”

“Nothing! Anything! I don’t deserve this, you…” Aziraphale whimpered when his gaze fell on his mutilated hand.” I don’t deserve help.”

“Huh, funny that. So, tell me…why did you stick with me for the last six millenia?”

Aziraphale shook his head, his eyes finding Crowley’s face. Pained, taunt. Grieved. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know where it was going.

He watched Crowley take a dish towel that just happen to materialize on the counter and then slide on one knee, wrapping it tightly around soaked bandage. He bristled, tried to move, but this time Crowley wasn’t letting go, his jaw growing tighter, like he kept grinding his teeth.

“If you, you, the best angel I’ve ever known, the best person I’ve ever met, do not deserve help…then why did you keep me around, huh? For fun? For better score in heaven? To feel better about yourself, maybe?”

“Crowley…”

“If being…if being a demon makes you worthless and…and undeserving…and…waste. If that makes you…nothing, then why,” Crowley looked up, his golden eyes too bright and his pupils barely visible slits and Aziraphale pushed his hand to his mouth to still a sob.” then why you love me? Why you loved me before? Why this Fall would change anything? I’m still demon. I always was. Always will be. And I loved you since Eden…so why do you think that…that Gabriel. That scum. That him, throwing you out would change who you are? It’s not you who is wrong, who is cruel and unworthy. It’s him.”

Crowley put his forehead on Aziraphale’s hip. The air filled with soft heartwrenching sobs as plump fingers found mess of dark red curls.

“Let me take you to the hospital, my angel.” 

“I’m not…I’m not…”

“You are always one to me. Please.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

_Love you._

“Always.”


End file.
